The Hardest Thing
by Coshie
Summary: Break-ups are never fun, but Hanna and ... are about to find out just how painful they can be. A little bit of angst, a little bit of hurt/comfort, a whole lot of drama.
1. one

A/N: HELLO AGAIN, . :D  
It's been... ages. AGES. ...Okay, so a year and a half since I last updated my stories, but still. AGES.

I've recently gotten back into writing massive amounts of fluffy fanfiction, but before I post my awesome newer stuff, I decided I'll try to sync up my deviantArt page (where all of my _Hanna _fanfic is posted) with . THEN I'll post the cooler stuff I have.

With that out of the way...  
Coming up today is the beginning of my 13-part angsty nonsense between Hanna and our favorite zombie. Honestly, I haven't edited it since I posted it on dA, so it might still be kind of shit. But that's okay, because here it is anyway. I'll post one to two parts a day until it's finished, then I'll move on to the rest of my un-posted HiNaBN stories, and finally onto more interesting stuff.

SO! If you want more Hanna, be on the lookout for that!

Cheers- And it's good to see you all again. (x

* * *

**o n e**

I had moved in with Hanna almost automatically; there really wasn't any question as to where I would be staying once I found him. He invited me in, took me in, and we easily cohabitated. What I didn't expect, however, was that it was a limited engagement.

"Hanna." He proffered the suitcase again, and ignored the pained expression on my face. "Hanna," I repeated, but accepted it nonetheless.

"We agreed," he said, staring at his stocking feet. His voice was barely audible. "Please don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

_Hanna, please don't_, I wanted to plead. I wanted to fall to my knees and absolutely beg. But he was right. I did agree, and begging would only serve to make this entire situation worse than it already was.

We stood for a bit, Hanna staring at his feet, I at him. I hoped against hope he would realize how wrong this was and change his mind.

But no such luck. He finally looked up at me, and his expression was defiant, mouth set in a straight line.

"I love you." It came out a little tumbled, but I knew Hanna understood it.

He shook his head. "Not any more."

I winced; his voice was collected, cold even, when I felt mine would break, shatter, and words wouldn't come. Something in my chest gave an uncomfortable _twang_.

This was it, then. I leaned down, hesitated, then placed a kiss on Hanna's forehead. His face registered no change in emotion, and he stood stock still.

I turned a bit and took a step away. I glanced back in time to catch Hanna's tears before the door was shut definitively in my face.

Then I was at Worth's.

Apparently, two days had passed. What I had done or where I had gone, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that my arm was (literally) hanging by a thread, Conrad had found me, and I ended up here. I guess there was some walking involved, even though I can't imagine my legs moving away from that door.

"And you're sure you don't remember anything?" Conrad repeated for what was the third time as Worth roughly sewed my arm back in place. With a similar _twang_, I noted his hands were not quite as gentle as Hanna's.

"Very little," I confirmed. "I left the apartment; I think I might have been in the park because I remember birds."

"And why'd yeh leave in th' first place?" Worth interjected.

"I… I agreed to."

"Why would you agree to that?" Conrad asked, sounding almost exasperated.

"Because Hanna was right. We were getting tired of each other. We were constantly at each others' throats, and it was time for us to go our separate ways."

"And… and what, you're okay with this?"

No. In what world would Conrad even _consider_ that I was okay with this? "Yes," I said.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes, muttering something about problematic relationships.

Worth finished stitching my arm and pushed away on his rolling chair. He skidded to a stop next to Conrad, and they both looked at me.

"Now what?" Conrad asked finally. "What are you going to do now?"

If only I knew, Conrad.


	2. two

A/N: Let's say every twelve hours or so I'll be updating this story. TIDAL WAVE OF UPDATES HERE WE GO.

And just in case you were wondering, this story is called "The Hardest Thing" from some lyrics by Butch Walker. (I really liked using lyrics for my HiNaBN fics, as I'm sure you'll see.) The lyrics go: "Here comes the heartache, move out day, excuses for my friends. Here comes the reasons I have to justify it was better in the end. Here comes the last time I'm gonna kiss you, and the first night sleeping alone. Here comes the hardest thing we've ever known." It's from his song "Here Comes The..." (featuring Pink). It's beautifully sad, which is why this story is named after it!_  
_

Anywho. ONWARD. Also: because you know Veser would have a fake ID or something. |P

* * *

**t w o**

This was not right. Hanna stared at the closed door, letting tears stream down his cheeks. This was wrong in so many ways. They had been together for nearly a year now, and here they were, going their separate ways. This was _wrong_.

"Then why'd you do it?" Veser leaned forward across the table, pushing his beer out of the way. "I mean, dude, if you're seriously this torn up, you did something wrong."

"Thanks," Hanna said, hand tightening on his own mug of beer. Why was he here? Time was one big blur now. "Yeah, I hadn't figured that one out for myself."

"Dude, just saying." Veser shrugged and sat back again. "So what are you going to do now? I mean, I know you're going to continue with that whole paranormal thing. But won't it be… y'know, lonely?"

"Shut up, okay?" Hanna said finally, sighing and letting his head fall into his arms on the table. "You're here to drink with me, not to lecture me."

"Nah, man, I'm here because you're lonely."

Veser watched the redhead for a moment. "Yeah, all right," Hanna conceded.

"So uh. Why'd he move out again?"

"We were… fighting." Hanna put his chin in his hands to stare at Veser over his glasses. "All the time. I guess I said he should just move out if it was really that bad, and he agreed, and like… I don't know. I packed a suitcase for him. He took it."

"Dude," Veser said. "Just… just. Dude."

"What?"

"You two were like…. And then just…. I mean, right?"

"What."

Veser gave a rather strangled, frustrated sigh, and leaned forward again. "Ples and I are, are close, right? But you and him were like… like _closer_. I dunno, y'know? Everyone figured me'n Ples would break up first."

"We didn't-" _Yes we did._ "Yeah, you're right. I mean," Hanna managed a smile, sitting up, "why the hell are you two still together anyway?"

"Yeah, thanks dude," Veser grumbled, lifting his mug.


	3. three

A/N: And another! I told you, TIDAL WAVE.

Oh, and I was never really able to write about ... from third person. I just ran out of things to call him. So usually when I wrote about him, it was always from his point of view. SO. There's some POV switching from chapter to chapter. Hopefully it's not too confusing, but there ya go.

* * *

**three**

"So yeah." Conrad rubbed the back of his neck as we stood at his door, looking over the neat, tidy apartment. "This is… well, this is it."

"It's nice," I commented. My only memory of the place was when Adelaide had torn it apart. Or rather, Conrad had torn it apart in pursuit of the other vampire, I supposed. I doubt a little bat could have caused all the damage I recall.

Conrad managed a half-shrug, half-nod. "Well um. Do you sleep? I mean… do you have to? Need to? Um, want to?"

"No." One of the ups of being dead. "So don't worry about an extra bed or anything like that."

"Ah." I could see the obvious relief on his face. Clearly that had been something he had worried over when he suggested I stay at his place until I found a place of my own. "Well! Um, I guess just make yourself at home. Y'know, ask if you need anything."

"Thanks."

I headed over to the couch while Conrad murmured something about his e-mail. He told me to turn on the TV if I'd like, so I did. I was greeted with the local news. Good enough.

It wasn't long until the phone rang. I glanced at it, but Conrad appeared and snatched it out of the cradle. "Hello, this is Conrad." I took a moment to note that he sounded unlike his usual harried self, and quite professional on the phone. "Oh hey." He relaxed a little. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know."

He glanced down at me, then at the TV. "Just, y'know. What? Here. Was he…? Oh."

Conrad was careful to only give short answers to hide what he was really talking about, but I could gather it was about Hanna and I. He turned around with a sigh. "I don't know."

A few more words were traded before he hung up. "That was Veser," he said.

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"He's with Hanna."

The name triggered something in me, but I ignored it and kept myself calm. "And?"

I could sense his hesitation, though I didn't look at him. "They were out drinking."

My instinct was to ask if Hanna was okay. But that would make it seem like I still cared, and as far as anyone needed to know, I was fine being away from him. "Okay."

"Veser just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"He knows."

"Does he?" I looked back at Conrad. His expression was pained. "He didn't actually… ask about me, did he?" I couldn't say his name. It hurt enough to hear it.

"I'm sorry," the vampire murmured, sitting on the arm of the couch. "I know… I know this must be difficult for you to… y'know. Be away from him."

"Conrad, please don't… I'm okay."

He sighed and stood. "Yeah, okay."


	4. four

A/N: For the record, because my beta and I had some discussion about this originally, nightmares are irrational. So don't try to rationalize any of this. c|

* * *

**f o u r**

_Gentle fingers combed through his hair. Hanna curled up with a slight smile. No warmth was offered, but he didn't particularly mind. He let himself linger in the half-sleep state he was in, enjoying the simple pleasure of touch._

_It took a moment for Hanna to realize it, but the fingers had stopped. He tried to open his eyes, but boy was he tired._

"_Hanna."_

"_Mm."_

"_Why did you let me leave?"_

_That didn't make sense. He didn't leave. He was here. "I… you didn't."_

"_I'm gone, Hanna, and it's because of you."_

"_No. It's…" A hand was now on Hanna's cheek, but instead of comfort, it brought panic. "You're right here. I'm right here."_

"_Because then you wouldn't be guilty." The hand slid down to his jaw, and his neck._

"_No, no. I'm not, I didn't…" A finger was pressed against his windpipe enough to make panic constrict his chest. "I didn't… It's not my fault. It's not my fault!"_

"_You killed me, Hanna."_

"_No, no, no!" The hand tightened. "You left! You agreed!"_

"_And now I'm going to kill you."_

_Hanna screamed and screamed_ and screamed, shooting up in his bed, drenched in sweat, tangled in his blankets.

It took a moment for the panic to fade enough for him to realize he wasn't in any immediate danger. He clawed at the blankets, at the floor next to the mattress, trying to find his glasses. They were located as his legs worked to get the blanket out of its stranglehold.

He took a deep breath as his eyes adjusted to the dark apartment. It was silent. It was still.

He put a hand to his throat. He closed his eyes and let the tears escape.


	5. five

A/N: Chapters are short. Have you noticed? The original plan was that this was just supposed to be like "moments" in their break-up process. Honestly, it turned out a lot more cohesive than I had originally planned when writing it years ago. Oh well.

* * *

**f i v e**

"I promise you'll like it, okay?" Toni insisted, tugging on my hand. I managed a slight smile and followed her down the corridor in the mall. "I saw this absolutely _gorgeous _tie on sale, and I really think it's your style."

"We'll see."

Conrad trudged along behind us, texting someone (I guessed a coworker or client). He muttered something along the lines of, "I'll see about that."

And that's when it happened.

"No, dude, I'm saying it's like… Godzilla would only win if Batman didn't have his utility belt," Hanna insisted, jostling Veser. "You know Batman would win otherwise."

Hanna brushed past me, his shoulder just reaching my upper arm. Time slowed, sound faded. He didn't see me, and I'm not even sure I saw him. Despite temptation, I kept my eyes forward. Did Conrad and Toni see him? Was I just imagining him? That red hair, the glasses…. Then he took another step.

"You might be an artist, but I'm still the woman here," Toni said to Conrad, sticking her tongue out. "I know style."

"You might be a woman, but haven't you ever seen 'What Not to Wear'? They're pretty much all women."

"Oh, shut up."

I reached up to feel my arm. It was tingling with a sensation I didn't think I was capable of feeling any longer. I glanced back.

He was gone.


	6. six

A/N: Aaaaand herein begins some real drama. HOORAY. ...or booooo, depending on how you feel about drama.

* * *

**s i x**

Hanna sat back against the wall. His arm was throbbing.

Veser had promised to be back in just an hour. But an hour alone, as it turns out, was enough for his thoughts to turn back to past mistakes. Blood slid down into his palm.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't be alone any longer. Alone was now synonymous with darkness, and both were to be avoided at all costs. His fingers twitched, and he leaned his head back against the cool tile of his bathroom wall.

"Hanna!" His ears perked up to what he had come to realize was a now-panicked knocking at his front door. "Hanna, open this door or I'm breaking it down!" It was Conrad. No, no, no. That meant his plan was ruined. Conrad knew, without even opening the door, what was happening.

"No," Hanna managed weakly, too quiet for Conrad to hear. "Go away." His left hand finally fell, the blade clattering to the floor, blood staining the white tile.

True to his word, Hanna heard the cracking and banging of wood as his front door was broken down. In seconds, he felt hands on his neck, his chest, then a panicked voice. He couldn't make out words, and when he opened his eyes, Conrad's face swam blurrily in and out of focus.

Something was pressed to his right wrist. "No," he murmured, shaking his head.

Conrad's hands shook as he wrapped the now-red towel around the redhead's arm. He turned to whoever was in the doorway and shouted to call 911.

"Hanna, Hanna, what did you do?" Conrad was muttering, forcing himself to focus hard on saving the man's life and not on how the blood was staining his fingertips, how the metallic scent was invading his senses. "God, Hanna, you could have- you would have died."

"I just…" Hanna closed his eyes again, managing only a few slurred words before losing consciousness: "I can't live without him."


	7. seven

A/N: At the time, my head!canon said that Ples was a shy, awkward type of guy, so that's why he's hanging out and stuff. Oh, and I totally shipped VesPles for a while, so there's that. /D

* * *

**seven**

Conrad said he'd only be a bit to pick up a pair of pants I had left at the apartment across town. But nearly an hour had passed now. I was torn between calling him and simply waiting.

My curiosity – and perhaps even worry – got the best of me, and I picked up the phone and dialed the number Conrad had left on the fridge. He picked up on the fifth ring. "Hey." He sounded exhausted. What could possibly have happened?

"Um, I really hate to bother you, but you did say within twenty minutes, and it's been nearly an hour."

"Look, the hospital's only a few blocks away; can you meet us here?" he asked.

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

"Toni, Veser, me, Ples- we're here. Can you meet us?"

"Why?" I felt my stomach drop; I prayed that what I was thinking did not happen.

"Hanna cut himself. Badly."

I was already out the door.


	8. eight

A/N: FUN FACT: this document was originally titled hinabn_ANGST on my computer.

After this, we've got like four more to go. Let's see how it plays out! ...angsty, if I had to guess. |:

* * *

**eight**

"They broke up."

"That doesn't mean they don't care about each other, Veser," Toni snapped.

"Dude, chill. Just saying."

"Chill?" Toni repeated, glaring at the boy. "Our friend is in there, dying, and you want me to _chill_?"

"Miss Ipres," Ples stepped in. "We are all tense with worry about Hanna. I believe what Veser is trying to say is that the break up did happen a short week ago, and perhaps it is too soon to reintroduce the two. Perhaps they are not ready."

Toni sighed, and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, I know. But we can't just leave him out of the loop. It's important that he know what happens."

Conrad, Toni, and Veser sat in the standard sparsely-cushioned chairs in the hospital waiting room while Ples opted to stand. They were relatively quiet as they waited for either their zombie friend or the doctor to enter the room.

After a moment, Toni turned to Conrad. "You said to call 911, and here's hoping everything works out and all, but are you sure we shouldn't have brought him to Worth?"

"His pulse was crazy out of sync, and didn't you hear his breathing and attempt at talking?" Conrad took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "He would have been dead if we tried to carry him even a single block."

Toni bit her lip, but nodded. She thought that there had to be a reason that Hanna saw that drop-out of a doctor, but Conrad was right. Trying to move Hanna would have been troublesome.

The door opened, and a doctor entered. Toni and Conrad shot to their feet while Veser – perhaps being the only one to notice the grave look on the doctor's face – slid further down in the chair.

"How is he?" Toni demanded.

"Stable," the doctor offered, looking through some papers on a clipboard. "Your friend, Mr Cross, is stable. We've got a transfusion started, and with any luck, he should be waking up in the hour."

"That's good news," Veser said, scuffing the ground with his foot and not looking up, "but you don't exactly look the part."

The doctor winced a little, and sighed. "There is a bit of… bad news."

Toni's shoulders fell noticeably, and Conrad collapsed back into his chair. Ples looked from one person to another, finally back to the doctor. "We'll hear it," he said when no one else spoke up.

"Physically, Mr Cross will be fine," the doctor started, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "Emotionally and psychologically, we're not so sure. This isn't the first time he's attempted suicide. Every attempt has been relatively recent, however. Did something happen?"

Everyone traded glances. "Um."

The door opened again, and everyone's favorite zombie walked in, eyes aglow with anxiety. "Where is he?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, and you are?" the doctor asked. "Only friends and family- "

"Where is he?" the zombie repeated, looking from Conrad to Toni, Veser to Ples. "Is he all right?"

Ples took a step forward. "How recent? Within the past week?"

"Within the past month. And you are?" The doctor tried again, turning to the green man.

"What was within the past month?" He continued to ignore the doctor. "Is Hanna all right?"

"I apologize, but I think it best you don't see him quite yet," Ples offered softly. "You two have only been apart a week, but Hanna has been attempting to kill himself for longer than that. Whatever his reasons are, I'm afraid you are part of them."


	9. nine

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Just some dialogue, but it was fun trying to capture everyone's separate voices. CAN YOU GUESS WHO'S WHO? EIGHT PARAGRAPHS, FOUR CHARACTERS TO CHOOSE FROM GO GO GO~

jk I know you can figure it out. (x

* * *

**n i n e**

"So I'm supposed to be talking to you, because apparently you were supposed to wake up by now? Iunno, something like that. So the doctor thinks that us taking turns and talking will help you out. Something like that. Dude, just wake up. We've got a surprise for you. Kinda."

"Hey Hanna; I hope you're all right in there. We're supposed to be chatting with you to keep your brain active and hopefully trigger something to bring you back to full consciousness. The doctor says you're okay. And you know… you have all of us, Hanna. Life isn't really that bad, is it?"

"I really don't know what I'm supposed to say to you. I mean, I found you nearly dead. I guess the question on everyone's mind is why. I know life may seem bad, but… well, it gets better. I mean, I died, but everything turned out all right, y'know? So when you wake up, we're going to make things right."

"Good evening, Mr Cross. I do hope everything is okay. I understand you've been through some troubled times lately, but things do turn out for the best in the end. I have a friend that is fond of saying, 'If it's not okay, it's not the end'. And most things are best if you ride them out until the end. So from all of us out here, we're here for you and wish you the best."

"Hey dude, me again. It's been a couple hours, but I guess you just don't want to wake up. I know those mornings too dude, so trust me when I say it's cool that you keep on sleeping. But we've got someone here that really wants to see you. But they won't let him in until you give us the say so."

"Hi Hanna. We're all making our second round. It's kind of scary in here, y'know? All the wires and tubes they have stuck to you. And that beeping. Haha, that would sure drive me nuts. But I guess you can handle it. Anyway. When you wake up, there's someone who really wants to see you."

"Seriously Hanna, if you don't wake up, we're taking you to Worth. And that would mean smuggling you out of here, and none of us want to do that. Also, that would mean getting yelled out by Worth. Ugh, seriously? If it comes to that, I might just have to kill you myself. So wake up and save us both the trouble. Oh, and someone's here for you. You gotta give us a 'go' first before he can come in. So just wake up, alright?"

"Three hours and counting. I'm sure you lose track of time during unconsciousness. Mr Cross, there is a very anxious guest for you outside, but they won't allow him in until you wake up, fearing the worst. When you do wake, we will not question you on your reasoning for doing what you did; for now, we will focus only on you and your health."


	10. ten

A/N: Not much getting accomplished in this one. Eh. :P  
Next up is Hanna and ...'s reunion! YEAH.

* * *

**t e n**

"Everything will be fine; I promise," Toni said, patting me on the back. "I know things seem bad, but Hanna will wake up, you'll both be happy to see each other, and who knows? Maybe you'll even get back together."

I knew I shouldn't get my hopes up, but hearing someone else express my deepest desire made me feel just a tad hopeful. "Thanks, Toni."

She smiled a little.

The door opened and Ples reentered with a sigh. "Still nothing, I'm afraid."

"Duuuude," Veser whined. "It's been like three hours since he was supposed to wake up. I say we smuggle him over to Worth."

"No," Conrad interjected. "Because I know I'll somehow get in trouble for Hanna being in this situation in the first place, and I refuse to listen to Worth yell at me for an hour."

Toni chuckled, changing to a cough as Conrad shot her a glare.

"Give him a little longer," Ples urged. "We've all had our chance with him. Perhaps he just needs some time to think things through on his own."

I buried my face in my hands. Toni put an arm around my shoulders and began murmuring comfort to me. I heard Conrad fall back in his chair, and I could imagine him closing his eyes. Ples sat next to Veser and I heard them begin to converse quietly.

An hour passed. Conrad received a phone call and stepped outside to take it. Toni murmured something about getting a snack from the vending machine and drifted out, returning a few minutes later with goldfish for Veser and a power bar for herself. Ples kept us all comforted with stories about his coworkers or Veser's latest antics.

I knew that if it was still beating, my heart would be pounding in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. As it was, anxiety and worry constricted my chest to such an extent that I doubted I would have been able to breathe if my lungs still functioned.

The door opened, and I looked up, but it was just Conrad. He looked conflicted.

"What is it?" Toni asked.

"Hanna," he said slowly. "He's… he woke up."

I rose to my feet hesitantly. Did he want to see me? I watched Conrad carefully, but his eyes didn't betray an answer one way or the other. "And?" I prompted.

"He'll see you.

"But." He held a hand up before I could rush from the room. "But under the condition that you don't say anything."

My brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"He doesn't want you to talk, and he'll do the same."

Had I cared a little more, I'd think about that a bit longer. As it was, I just wanted to see him, and that meant even if I couldn't say anything. I nodded.

Conrad stepped aside, and I was gone.


	11. eleven

A/N: Hanna's a crybaby in this one. ...I guess he kind gets the right to be. There's only one part left to post after this one! O':

* * *

**eleven**

When I entered the room, Hanna wasn't looking at me; instead, he chose the opposite wall. His right wrist was wrapped tightly in bandages, sitting out on top of the blankets that covered the rest of him.

I resisted the urge to rush over and pull him into me, whispering apologies and "I love you"s. I took a seat next to the bed, and – as instructed – said nothing.

He didn't move for a long time. I could see his chest rise and fall, and his eyes blink, but it was at least ten minutes before he turned to face me. His face was stony.

I reached out hesitantly to touch his hand. He didn't pull away. I grasped his hand in mine, moving my other hand up to cover his. He watched me, but no emotion registered on his face.

The past week had been pretty hellish, all things considered. I was constantly worried about Hanna, hoping he was okay, and was he eating enough? But sitting here with him now, content in silence, holding his hand… everything seemed a little better.

I looked back into his face. He was biting his bottom lip, staring at our hands. In another moment, his face screwed up in what I thought was pain, but to my great surprise, he burst into tears.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, gripping my hand tightly. "I'm so sorry! I didn't want you to know, but things were just so bad and our fighting was so bad and I didn't want to live in a world where all we did was fight and then you left and things just got worse and-"

"Sh, sh, Hanna," I murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding him to me. He clutched my shirt, bawling into my chest.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," he continued to mutter through his tears.

"Hanna, it's okay," I whispered into his hair. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

A/N: Just a quick little note about "no talking", because I figured someone might want to know: years ago, things were tough for me. I hated being alone because I knew I'd end up in back in a bad place, but I hated the stupid little interactions with people, mostly them asking me if I was okay. So I would keep people around me on the one condition that they didn't speak to me. I liked the company, but I didn't like the talking. So I figured maybe Hanna feels similar: maybe he figured that if ... went in being able to talk, he'd immediately launch into a tirade about how life is totally worth living and "are you okay?" would probably pop up, and who really enjoys being asked that question anyway?


	12. twelve

A/N: ...This took me long enough to update. :T Sorry I suck guys.

On the note of the angst and drama we've got in this chapter... I don't /want/ to make them hurt. I actually rather like (read: am totally and undoubtedly in love with) these characters. But they're just so damn fluffy. :I  
So here's some drama to spice it up.

* * *

**twelve**

"Discharged!" Hanna cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "And soon, a wicked new scar!"

Conrad gave a strangled sigh. "I don't think that's something to be proud of, Hanna."

Hanna just laughed, clutching my hand so tightly, blood would have been constricted from my fingers. But I understood: he was afraid of losing me again. I, too, was afraid of losing him.

Toni glanced back at us, and ushered Veser forward. "We'll meet you guys at the car, all right?" Conrad, too, was given a little shove, and Ples picked up his pace. Within seconds, the four of them had disappeared into the parking lot.

My steps slowed, and Hanna stood next to me, smiling up at me. No matter how hard I tried, though, I couldn't manage anything more than a simple, half-grin. Don't get me wrong, I was happy to have him back. Very happy. But… but things couldn't stay this way.

"Hanna-"

"You should move back in," he said in a rush. He blushed and looked down at our feet, still holding my hand. "I mean, it's lonely. And I kind of miss your cooking." He gave a sheepish smile.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Hanna, I can't."

"Wh-what?" He winced. "I mean, why?"

"Nothing's different," I said, taking my hand from his and reaching up to his face. "We're going to go back to fighting."

"We… we can make it work," he tried.

"You said that a month ago. And look at what happened. Hanna, it just… it just won't work."

"No," he whispered. "Please, give me another chance."

No, no, Hanna, don't cry. Please, don't you see this is how it has to be? I leaned down and swept him into a kiss. "Hanna, I love you. I love you with all my heart. But it won't work between us, no matter how much we want it to."

"Then…" He wiped his eyes. "Then this is it."

"We'll still see each other. Maybe we'll go out once in a while. But we need a break from each other if we want this to work."

"So…" He looked up at me hopefully. "There's hope?"

I smiled and kissed him again. "There's always hope."

* * *

A/N: WAIT GUYS THIS ISN'T THE END. I LIED WHEN I SAID IT WAS. One more part - the Epilogue. And that's where we have some real angst. HOORAY.


	13. epilogue

A/N: Who sucks at updating when they say they will? This girl.  
... sorry. ;_;

So! Here we are at the end. It's been a fun ride. Enjoy the last little bit of angst! :T  
And before any comments about the ending, lemme just say: I'm not happy about it either. x_o''' Sometimes... things just happen, y'know?

* * *

** epilogue**

"Hanna. I know I've told you about the dishes."

"I put them in the sink, didn't I?" he says with obvious attitude. He's typing away on his laptop, I think chatting with someone, and clearly can't be interrupted.

"Yes," I say patiently, avoiding tapping my foot on the ground; "but you didn't rinse them."

"Ugh! Is it really that difficult?"

"No, it isn't. So why can't you do it?"

"Why can't you?"

"This," I say finally, narrowly avoiding throwing a plate onto the counter, "is why we shouldn't be together, Hanna. After dinner, you get into this mood where you can't be bothered unless it's to fuck."

"Shut up, you know that's not true."

_No, I know it's true, Hanna, you're proving it to me with every word you say_. I turn to the sink, glare at the pile of dishes, and then turn and leave the kitchen. "I'm going for a walk," I say shortly, taking my hat and jacket. He doesn't respond, but he isn't typing either.

I leave the apartment.

We agreed to try again. It has been an entire year since Hanna was in the hospital, but little has changed, as I pessimistically expected. Our fights are a lot less heated nowadays, but the fact that we're still fighting is a cause for concern.

I can't do this anymore. Every word Hanna says during our fights is like a knife to my heart. Even if he apologizes now, even if things are the slightest bit better now… it doesn't change the fact that I want to be around him less and less every day.

It's painful. This whole process, the whole slowly falling apart. It needs to be quicker, and sting for only a second: like ripping off a bandaid. It shouldn't last for this long. For over a year.

Because we have been falling apart for that long. Hanna just doesn't want to realize it, not that I can blame him. It's a painful truth. I've tried to talk to him about it, but his eyes get all watery, and I can't bring myself to say anything else to hurt him then, promising myself I'll try again later.

If I'm honest, I'm terrified of leaving Hanna. He's so upbeat and happy all the time, I just know he's hiding something, some inner darkness. I've caught it once or twice, but nothing enough to confront him with. Nothing really concrete.

When I draw myself from my thoughts, I'm standing in front of our apartment door. His apartment door. I must have gone around the block a few times, I suppose, but now, here I am, staring at that six that I've always meant to flip right side up.

I take off my hat and open the door with a sigh.

Hanna is sitting on the couch, staring at the blank television. I glance at him, but he doesn't react at all when the door closes with a sharp _snap_. Hanging up my jacket and hat, I head into the kitchen to do those dishes.

At least, I would, but there weren't any left.

"Hanna?" I step out of the kitchen. He hasn't moved. "Did you do the dishes, Hanna?"

He didn't even react to his name. I feel my brow furrow, and I walk over to him. Something is starting to tighten in my chest. "Hanna?" I place a hand on his shoulder gently from behind. Then I catch sight of what's in his lap.

In his hands, shaking and pale, is a razor.

"Hanna, oh-" He's crying, silently, but his shoulders are shaking. "Please-"

"I can't do it," he whispers, effectively cutting me off. "Things are so bad. You're right; you're right, we shouldn't be together. But I can't… no matter what I try…." He looks up at me finally. His eyes are red and puffy. "If I can't be with you, life's just not worth it. But I can't end it. I can't. You said there's hope, that there's always hope. But there isn't! Not for us!"

It pains me to hear him say those things, it really does. But I know he has a point, and I can't let myself be swept away in the sea of tears, as what usually happened. "Hanna, there's-" There's what? I sigh, rubbing my neck. "Maybe you're right," I murmur. It hurt to hear it from myself, but this was it. I had promised myself so many times that we would have this talk. "Things haven't been going great, even though I'm only here in the evenings." I can't put this off any longer.

"No," Hanna whispers.

"Maybe there isn't hope."

A new flood of tears, and Hanna collapses in on himself, shaking and sobbing.

I can't bear to see him like this. I turn, closing my eyes, only wishing I could close my ears. I touch my chest; it's uncomfortably tight. I know what I have to do. I take a step forward.

"Please," Hanna cries at my back. "Don't- don't leave!"

"I can't help you, Hanna," I manage in little more than a whisper. "There's nothing I can do for you."

I take up my coat and hat once more. I hear Hanna give a little cry of pain, but I don't turn around. I open the door,  
And leave.

* * *

"It's not your fault," Conrad murmured, nuzzling my neck. "You two had been falling apart for ages; you said it yourself."

"I know," I mused, tracing random patterns with my finger on his back. "But… I still wonder if he's okay."

"But you won't call." He sat up, looking at me. "Are you afraid to find out that he's not okay?"

"I'm afraid he won't answer," I admitted painfully, turning away from Conrad's piercing gaze. "If something happened…"

He kissed my jaw gently, murmuring that it wasn't my fault again.

"I… do feel bad, though," I told him, kissing his head. "I never told him about you and me."

Conrad smiled a little, trailing kisses down my neck. "What he doesn't know, can't hurt him." His mouth moved to my chest.

No matter what I told myself, I never stopped wishing that the hair I was wrapping my fingers through was curly red and the scar I traced was a zigzag over an expanse of pale skin.

No matter what Conrad did, I could never focus entirely on him, during outings, during sex. I knew he knew. But he never said a word.

* * *

_Hanna,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know it's been a few years, but I wanted to offer my congratulations on getting into the paper with your latest case. I hope the good luck continues.  
__Conrad says your scar has completely healed now, and is barely noticeable. I'm glad to hear that. I know you'll have some interesting stories to offer on that topic.  
__I wish you nothing but the best of luck in all of your endeavors.__  
_

_All my best_


End file.
